G2-Story-24-Gemma-Pt-2

The low hum of animated conversation in the large, elegant and beautifully furnished lounge died away to a tense, expectant silence when the double doors swung open and Gemma's Masters strode in, a long wooden pole slung from their shoulders.

Bound to it by a continuous length of black rope spiralling around her body from her pointed toes to the tips of her outstretched fingers, Gemma's naked body gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows, her steel collar and cuffs glittering and the broad black leather gag strap contrasting dramatically with her pale flesh, to create an intensely erotic image.

In the dead silence that greeted her arrival, Gemma's bearers carried her over to a pair of black iron chains descending from the high ceiling and terminating in large rings nine feet apart and six feet above the carpet. Lifting her, they slotted each end of the pole through one of the rings and stood back, leaving her hanging, belly down ...

As promised, Gemma's day had begun with a delicious breakfast, wolfed down in minutes by the ravenous brunette while she knelt between the chairs of her Masters in their spacious dining room. Emboldened by the unusual freedom of being neither bound nor fed from their hands, Gemma had taken a deep breath, lifted her head from her empty plate and humbly requested to be allowed to speak.

"You may, slave." her Master had replied jovially, "What is it you wish to say?"

"May I know your names, Masters?" she had asked, "I know I must always call you Master, but it would make it ... easier ... for me if I knew who had enslaved me." Her voice tailed off as she admitted her lowly status.

Gemma had thought long and hard about that very question during the previous night and had come to the inescapable conclusion that she had no choice in the matter and , having no choice, she would just have to be the slave that they required her to be.

"Yes, Masters." she had replied slowly and felt her groin moisten as she committed herself.

"Good. Then in answer to your question, slave, I am Master Axel and my companion is Master Nicos." It was the giant who spoke and Gemma looked up, thinking to herself how well his strong, uncompromising name fitted his character.

She turned to her other Master, Nicos. "Are you French, my Master?" she had asked curiously.

"Well ... I don't know really. You look, sort of, French ... and your accent ..." it sounded lame to Gemma even as she said it, but he hadn't seemed bothered.

"Where all the shipping tycoons come from, eh, Nicos? Onassis, Niarchos and you."

"Ah, but sadly, no longer my friend. As you know, I am retired and simply while away my days with my little yacht."

"Hah!" The big man snorted, "Little yacht my foot! I don't call a hundred and ninety feet' little'!"

"Well, perhaps not." Nicos agreed equably, "It certainly has enough room for my friends ..." he paused and allowed his dark eyes to scan Gemma's body, "And a slave."

Gemma gulped, lowering her head submissively and feeling her belly surge with slow heat as she whispered, "Yes, my Master." and the heat had increased as she had looked up in time to see him nod decisively.

Fighting to suppress a sudden urge to beg the two men to take her, Gemma opened her mouth to ask what they had meant by their veiled reference to her wanting to look her best for her audience, but was too late.

"Enough, slave! No more questions." Axel snapped and her question died on her lips, keeping her in ignorance of their plans.

Ordered to her feet, she followed them to a luxurious bathroom where she was left to bathe and wash her hair, alone but secure, for, just as at Roxwell's house, a hinged tile had been lifted to reveal a long chain welded to a steel ring and the steel snake had been locked to her collar. Resigned to her continuing captivity, Gemma shrugged and made the best of it, relaxing in a deep, hot bath, washing her hair three times and brushing it dry in front of the full length mirror, then waited patiently for her Masters to return.

She felt wonderful and knew she looked good. When the two men came back, she went to her knees and presented her body, flushing with pleasure when they had told her she made a lovely slave. Given a lift by their compliments, Gemma walked back to her cell, aware at every step of their eyes on her swaying buttocks and slim legs, wondering and even hoping that they might want to take her.

The ten foot long wooden pole, fixed vertically in the centre of her cell, a square wooden box at its foot, came as an unwelcome surprise and Gemma eyed it with more than a little trepidation as her Masters had explained its purpose, their evident enthusiasm doing little to allay her concern. Her bondage, they assured her, would be both elegant and graceful, displaying her beautifully. She would love it, they had said, but Gemma was not convinced. She had no doubt at all that her body would be displayed, but knew from experience that her Master's bondage was invariably tight, uncomfortable and escape proof.

"Go to the pole, slave. Stand on the box, feet together and your arms above your head," the command left no room for negotiation and Gemma did as she was bid, a shiver running up her spine when her back met the cool, hard wood.

Working carefully and methodically, her two Masters lashed her ankles together to the post and begun to spiral the black rope up her calves and thighs, pulling each loop tight as they went and clamping the wood to her flesh. As she was bound and the rope squeezed her belly and waist in a firm, unyielding embrace, Gemma gasped when her arousal flared, greatly savouring the steadily increasing helplessness being imposed on her while she was turned into the bondage slave her Masters desired and which she, too, wished to be. She did not even consider resisting. It would have been useless and, in any case, as she had at last come to realise, she liked the restriction her bonds enforced and the delicious heat which was the inevitable accompaniment of her submission.

The ropes spiralled higher, below and above her breasts, at her shoulders, her neck and higher still to compress her arms, then bind her wrists, her arousal building higher while her freedom was taken.

Her nostrils flared when the rope spiralled downwards, doubling her bondage and she moaned in submissive pleasure as her breasts, already swollen with need, were thrust even more prominently outward when the tight black rope lifted and proffered them for her Masters' touch. Across her belly and down her legs, the rope criss-crossed her smooth skin, restraining her ever more thoroughly until she was unable to do more than flutter her toes and fingers; her arousal burning like a bright flame within her to the thrilling knowledge that she was entirely helpless.

Her mouth opened willingly when the gag was brought to her lips and she panted for breath while the leather cylinder sank between her jaws and its strap was buckled around the post behind her, forcing her head erect between her upraised arms. It was a wonderful moment for Gemma when they tied the last knot then stood back to survey her, their eyes gleaming with pleasure as she strained against her bonds to prove to them how securely-fixed she was; her submissive delight shining in her eyes as their skillfully tied ropes loosened not a fraction.

Gemma whimpered into her gag, her belly churning with lust when their lips fastened on her breasts, surrounding her nipples with warm, wet heat while they feasted on her defenceless flesh. Her arousal was intense, but too short-lived from Gemma's point of view. Her eyes pleaded eloquently but in vain while her Masters took their lips from her.

"One hour, slave." they told her., "Then we shall return for you." and they left.

True to their word, an hour passed in which Gemma failed to free herself and during which her arousal continued to burn undiminished. When they came for her, Gemma's eyes smiled a welcome, but they had had no time for her needs and she gaped in astonishment when they released the pole from its fixings and lifted it and her, onto their shoulders; her body suspended face down in its mesh of black rope.

She was taken from the room, her gasps of fear lost in her gag, and she trembled as she was carried through the house to a pair of high double doors. Her Master, Axel, threw the doors wide and her terror overwhelmed her while she was carried into a huge, sunlit room and saw a sea of faces staring at her. Paralysed by the terrible shock, Gemma was not even able to scream while she was carried across the room to a pair of chains hanging from the ceiling and the ends of her pole slotted into place to leave her suspended.

"Ladies and gentlemen of The Consortium, I give you Gemma, your slave." Axel's voice cut through the silence in the lounge and was immediately followed by a storm of clapping and shouts of "Bravo!" and "Well said!" and, "Fine job, Axel!" The hubbub broke Gemma's trance-like state and her gag muffled screams and the frantic tensing of her muscles focused all eyes upon her: most smiling at her futile struggles, but some frowning at what they clearly considered to be her unseemly behaviour. Gemma's terrified brown eyes raced from one face to the next, recognising Roxwell, the blonde Alicia, her current Masters and one or two others from the day of her auction, but others she did not recognise at all. Her blood ran cold when she realised that all were members of The Consortium which had bought her as a slave and all had part ownership of her.

She flushed hotly while they gathered around her suspended body, but was unable to move a muscle to cover her displayed nudity nor fend off the hands which stroked and caressed her breasts, belly, thighs and buttocks. The mixed group of Masters and Mistresses examined her with humiliating thoroughness and a proprietary air that brought tears of shame to her eyes, not to mention the blistering arousal that the touch of so many hands sent racing through her immobilised body.

The questions flew thick and fast and Gemma blushed a vivid scarlet as each was answered in humiliating detail by one or another of the four Masters in whose power she had been; her likes and dislikes, fears and responses laid out for the benefit of those whose turn as her Masters was yet to come.

At last, the stream of questions dried up and Gemma shuddered helplessly when her Masters, old and new, adjourned to the cocktail cabinet for drinks, leaving her to reflect worriedly on the fact that now that all of The Consortium knew what could be extracted from her with the right combination of ruthless dominance and skilful arousal, she would inevitably be forced to submit to each and every one of them.

A prospect at the same time shamefully exciting and horrifying ... and unavoidable, for Gemma didn't kid herself that any new Master or Mistress would be less exacting or demanding than those she had been made to serve already. She would be forced to do exactly as they wished and woe betide her if she failed to be pleasing. Hanging beneath her pole, her mind a prey to numberless imaginings, Gemma watched and waited and worried while her owners relaxed, their eyes occasionally flicking to her tightly-bound body as if to check that she had not managed to escape.

Her bonds hadn't given an inch and she wouldn't be able to escape if they left her where she was for a week. Perhaps fortunately for the brunette, it was only an hour or so rather than a week, before the drinks session came to an end and she again became the centre of attention.

Axel stepped forward and Gemma gave a muffled cry of impotent fury when his hard palm slapped her naked rump; the sharp crack of the blow and the immediate appearance of the stinging red imprint of his hand testifying to his strength and accuracy, bringing smiles to the faces of his audience.

"Now to business!" he said loudly, "We all know why we are here and our vote was unanimous. Mistress Lydia, you have the floor."

He stood aside to allow a short, dark, rather severe looking woman in her late thirties to step forward. Gemma looked down, the stinging pain in her bottom forgotten when her pendulous breasts were cupped by the woman's hands then closely examined.

"Hmm. Yes, no problems there. Bring my case, please." She said, looking directly into Gemma's eyes and adopting a brisk, no nonsense tone, "Now then, slave, pay attention! You heard Axel say that our vote was unanimous, and the outcome is that you are going to have your nipples pierced. No, no, no." she said soothingly when Gemma's eyes bulged and she tensed every muscle in a frantic bid to break free of her bonds.

"Now, now! That's enough of that! You can't possibly escape. Don't worry, slave. I'm a senior surgeon and I know exactly what I'm doing. It won't hurt a bit." she said, smiling encouragingly at the flabbergasted brunette.

Gemma couldn't believe her ears. They couldn't be going to ... to ... No, it wasn't possible! She stared at the calm woman below, then around at the ring of stony faced watchers and a lump of icy panic welled up into her throat. Terrified by what she read in the faces, Gemma redoubled her efforts, muffled shrieks of near hysteria leaking past her gag.

"Oh, you silly girl!" the woman frowned, "I was afraid you were going to be difficult. Very well, hold her please!"

Gemma sobbed in defeated misery when Axel and Nicos gripped her shoulders, holding her still.

"I don't know what you're making such a fuss about! It's not exactly a major operation and I see you've already had your ears pierced."

With tears pouring down her gagged face, Gemma couldn't explain that that was different. They were only her ear lobes and she had volunteered for it, but this ... ! The woman, Mistress Lydia, cupped Gemma's right breast in her left hand and rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, then flicked the crinkled button with her thumbnail. Twice more and to Gemma's abject terror, she felt her nipple growing hard. She tried to stop it ... to will it not to erect, but her flesh swelled remorselessly under the woman's fingers until it stood rigid atop her deliciously rounded breast. Mistress Lydia grunted in satisfaction, then bent to her bag and Gemma squealed while her nipple was held in the fingers of her Mistress's left hand, while her right dabbed anaesthetic liquid around the nipple's base. In seconds, her skin went numb and she really did feel nothing when a surgical steel, dermal punch was forced through her nipple to leave a large, neatly-pierced hole.

Gemma gaped dumbly at her pierced breast, unable to credit the evidence of her own eyes. She was still frozen in shock while the procedure was repeated on her left breast and it was only when Mistress Lydia snapped her bag closed and admonished her that Gemma's daze began to clear.

"I trust you will be more obedient and better behaved when you visit me, slave."

The full impact, however, only hit home when Roxwell stepped forward and held a velvet jewel case up to her eyes. The rings it held were beautifully fashioned in gleaming stainless steel to match the collar and cuffs she already wore. Had it not been for the horrible fact that they were destined for her pierced nipples she would have thought they were quite lovely. Instead, she hated them, but couldn't tear her eyes away when Roxwell told her they had been specially made, just for her. Despite herself, Gemma was intrigued and watched carefully while he hinged the hoops open. Each was really two, one quite small, perhaps an inch in diameter, but the other more than twice that size with the pair melding seamlessly at what he explained was an internal lock. These locks were similar to, but much smaller than those locks of her cuffs and collar and once closed, could never again be opened.

Gemma blushed luridly when he lifted the hoops and demonstrated another refinement. Attached to the larger ones, tiny bells tinkled musically when he jiggled them and he chuckled at her consternation when he pointed out that every movement she made would be accompanied by the soft jingling of bells.

"It's so we know when you're coming, slave." he joked cruelly and Gemma's flush deepened when several Masters laughed at the deliberate double meaning of his words.

He raised the first of the doubled rings to her right breast, fed it very carefully through her piercing then clicked it closed. Gemma shuddered helplessly and her belly kicked with fierce power. He chuckled knowingly.

Gemma whimpered miserably, knowing it was true. Her passed the second doubled rings to Lydia.

Lydia stared hard into Gemma's eyes, until the naked brunette dropped her gaze, unable to face the fierce glare any longer.

"Humph! That's better, slave. I'm your Mistress and you'd better not forget it. You will wear this slave ring mounted in your breast and know always that I put it there. You belong to me and all my colleagues in The Consortium." and with that, she fed the ring through Gemma's left nipple and snapped it closed.

A massive tremble shook Gemma's bound body when her belly kicked again and she whimpered in anguish as the tell tale jingling of bells at her nipples betrayed her need to her Masters. Well aware that her breasts would need time to recover, they nevertheless found other ways to enjoy her defenceless body and Gemma screamed into her gag while probing fingers explored between her thighs, penetrating her sex, stroking her clitoris, caressing her labia and breaching the puckered ring of her anus to bring a shattering arousal and abject submission from her tormented body. She spasmed and wept uncontrollably, pulsing in enforced responses to the demands of her expert new Owners who knew exactly how to wreak the maximum havoc on a slave.

Gemma had not the remotest chance of resisting such a massive onslaught and was forced to surrender again and again, her body trembling and juddering while she was brought to climax after climax. Her submission was absolute when she spasmed hugely an unknown number of times, to an unknown number of Masters, able only to obey the hands which manipulated her with such devastating skill and horrifying ease.

At last, at long, long last, Gemma's sweat-drenched, feebly-spasming body could give no more and she was left to moan and sob and whimper in suspension when her Masters left her alone in the lounge to recover as best she might. Time passed and the room grew dim when the sun began to set, but it brought no relief to Gemma, for, as exhausted and devastated as she was, the fires kindled in her breasts, belly and sex from the ruthless subjugation simply refused to die! She whimpered in despairing anguish while tremors and shudders of fierce desire returned to rack her helpless body. It was then that a man, a Master she did not know, returned to the room. He did not speak, but simply unbuckled her gag, pulled it from her mouth and let it dangle below her chin, watching calmly while she worked her stiffened jaws. Unable to endure the renewed turmoil in her belly, Gemma begged in her need.

The man's teeth gleamed whitely in the gloom when he heard the piteous desperation in her voice.

"Me, slave ... or any man?" he asked softly and Gemma trembled violently, her belled breasts jingling, knowing the answer.

"Ah, well. No matter, slave." he said quietly then thrust her gag back into her mouth, silencing her.

Strapped tightly to the wooden pole, she couldn't do a thing when he supported her legs, slid the pole free, eased her feet down to the floor, then did the same with her shoulders and lay her on her back on the thick carpet.

He busied himself at the ropes enmeshing her legs and as they loosened, Gemma opened herself to his gaze and touch, her shame unable to compete with the burning lust engulfing her belly. Uncaring that her torso and arms remained firmly bound, she surrendered instantly, her hips rising clear of the carpet beneath her when his fingers caressed the slick wetness of her sex, bringing soft moans of unbearable longing from her gagged lips.

As he positioned himself between her spread thighs and his thick maleness slid smoothly into her welcoming warmth, Gemma arched into a straining bow, her belly enfolding him and drawing him deep into the cauldron of her passion; her eyes wide in the unseeing stare of a slave in need when she was taken in hard, fast lunges. He reached his peak quickly, but not so quickly as Gemma and when her body writhed beneath him in the ecstasy of her long-awaited release, her muffled squeals of surrender built to a shrill scream when his sperm thundered into her belly to drown her shame, fears and anguish in scalding torrents of pulsing love juices while his body bucked against hers.

For long minutes, they lay locked together, panting for breath, his eyes gazing down into hers, enjoying her submission and his dominance while she spasmed still from the orgasm he had forced upon her ... albeit with her willing and even enthusiastic cooperation. Gemma felt the colour rise into her cheeks as he basked in his absolute Mastery of her. Slowly, his lips curved into a broad grin.

"I am pleased with you, slave." he said at last. "I am sure you will be worth every penny I paid for you, but if not, then I have no doubt you will fetch a good price on the open market."

His casual words sent a thrill of horror through Gemma and he chuckled cruelly when her eyes reflected her terror.

"Oh yes, slave." he assured her, "There is a thriving market for pretty girls like you and it is by no means unknown for a slave who has not been fully pleasing, to be sold to other Masters. Of course," he went on reflectively, "her new Masters know why she is being sold and tend to be, shall we say, rather ... ah ... strict with her, until she learns to behave properly." he nodded down into Gemma's frightened face. "However, that is not a problem for you ... yet ... and as long as you strive to please your other Masters in The Consortium as well as you pleased me, I'm sure everything will be fine." He slid easily from Gemma's belly.

Big, hot tears welled in her eyes while he re-tied her legs, but he was unconcerned by her distress.

"Don't waste your time, slave." he told her, "I'm tear-proof. Anyway, you're pretty lucky. Not every slavegirl gets a nice collar and cuffs and pretty bells like yours, you know."

He tied the last knot, leaving Gemma as hopelessly bound as before. Only now, she had begged to be taken as a slave and had been. Taken and then warned of the consequences of failing to be pleasing. Demoralised, she watched numbly when he rose and went to the door.

"See you soon." he waved briefly, "Next time, your piercings will be healed. I'll have to think of something ..."

And he was gone, leaving Gemma helpless, with her brain racing while she was reminded that she wore rings in her nipples and that her Masters saw her as more of a slave than ever. She was a slave whose sole function was to provide pleasure to her Owners; her body theirs to arouse, use and enjoy as they wished, no matter what the cost in shame, discomfort and anguish to their powerless victim. She would be used exactly as she had been by the dominant Master who had just left her. One whose name she did not even know.

Gemma looked down through the gathering gloom to the pale swells of her breasts and gave an involuntary shiver when she saw the glimmer of steel transfixing her flesh, marking her as The Corporation's captive. Her slightest movement set the silver bells tinkling musically and her face burned crimson when she remembered how Roxwell and the others had laughed when he'd joked that the sound would tell them when she was coming. The trouble was, he had been completely correct. Not only did the bells betray her each time a Master or Mistress aroused her, but the piercings had a secondary effect ... that of increasing the sensitivity of her already extremely responsive breasts. Despite her climaxes, her nipples remained semi-erect; achingly tender, and Gemma knew only too well that a single caress or kiss to her ringed nipples would send blistering arousal surging through her body.

Alone in the darkened lounge and bound inescapably to the pole at her spine, Gemma's eyes grew round in the knowledge that she no longer was in command of her own body or of her fate. Both now lay in the hands of The Consortium and it was they, not she, who would decide how and when and even if, their slave would be made to give or receive pleasure. Gemma had, and would again never have, a say in the matter. She was the slave and as such, simply required to obey. Nothing more, but definitely nothing less. The harsh reality of her situation, hard though it was for her to accept, was strangely comforting, for she had no other option and nothing she could possibly say or do would affect the fact of her captivity. For as long as she was enslaved, she must try to forget her previous life, forget that she was once free, forget about the choices and rights she had once enjoyed and just do her utmost to avoid punishment by obeying and pleasing her Masters. It was a hard, hard decision to be forced to take, but Gemma was a realist and made herself confront and accept the inevitable. She could not fight ropes and chains and riding crops, and would suffer if she tried, so she must obey and become the slave her Masters desired ... no matter how difficult or humiliating that course of action might be.

Her decision made, Gemma relaxed as best she could and allowed her mind to replay the day's events, a glow of pleasure warming her belly when she remembered being carried into the room on the shoulders of her Masters, then the touch of many hands on her helpless body. Shameful memories, certainly, but deliciously erotic for a tightly bound slave who accepted her subjugation ... as she had and did.

Even the terrible shock of her piercings took on a different light when she'd surrendered to powers far stronger than herself and once more her belly swirled deliciously when she visualised how vulnerable and desirable she must have looked to her Owners when her naked body was adorned with the rings of their possession. Trembling with the sexual heat generated by her own imagination, the tinkling bells at her breasts telling of her excitement, Gemma smiled behind her gag while she lived again the shameful ecstasy of being aroused and taken by the unknown Master who had used her for his pleasure and then simply re-tied her and left. Cruel, arrogant, and totally dominant, he had been all these things, but she had still submitted utterly to him and reveled in her own powerlessness. Immersed in her memories, simmering gently with a pleasurable arousal, Gemma yielded to the truth of her own submissive nature.

The doors to the lounge opened and Gemma screwed her eyes shut against the sudden glare when the lights blazed. Axel and Nicos strode over and began to untie her, then stood over her while she winced with the discomfort of returning mobility to her stiffened limbs.

When she obeyed and got slowly to her feet, her nipple bells jingled and she straightened her spine to show them off, well aware of her Masters' eyes upon her breasts and their smiles as they saw her display her submission.

Gemma preceded them from the lounge, hands clasped together behind her back, even though she was not bound; her body held proudly when she obeyed like the true slave she had finally become. In her cell, she knelt motionless while they again surveyed her nude, stained body.

"Your rings and bells suit you, slave." Nicos observed and Gemma lowered her eyes.

"I hear that you responded as a really hot little slave after we left you in the lounge." he said silkily and Gemma's face blushed a bright crimson when she realised that her subjugation by the unknown man was common knowledge.

Dropping her eyes from his predatory gaze, Gemma nodded her head dumbly, admitting her shame as a tremor set the bells at her breasts tinkling gently.

"Yes," he agreed cruelly, "You were quite good, apparently. Good enough to avoid a cropping for failing to please, anyway."

Gemma's flush deepened even as the grudging compliment sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. Her eyes jerked up to his face when he continued.

"It would be a shame if you earned yourself a cropping for failing to please me, now wouldn't it?" and his fingers rubbed slowly at his crotch.

Gemma knew what he wanted and knew what she must do. She sucked in a deep breath.

"You'd better, slave!" Axel chuckled ominously, but then, as Gemma reached out a hand to unzip him, he snapped, "No! Not with your fingers, slave. With your lips."

The brunette gulped then clasped her hands behind her. Towering over her, legs spread and his hands on his hips, Axel watched while his naked slavegirl struggled to capture the elusive zip between her teeth, her pretty face pressed against his bulging crotch while she fought to obey his order; her fumbling efforts giving evidence of her inexperience and adding to his pleasure and amusement. At last, Gemma was able to grip the zip securely and inclined her head to draw it downwards, releasing his large, semi-erect manhood.

Slowly, remembering the very first time she had pleasured a Master, Roxwell, in this way, she began to kiss and lick delicately at the fleshy shaft, every touch of her lips and tongue having its effect until he grew iron hard, thrusting rigidly from his thicket of pubic hair and twitching to every caress of her soft lips. Secretly thrilled by her success, Gemma pursed her lips into an "O" and took him into her mouth, tasting and smelling again the salty musk of a man, a Master, she must satisfy. Kneeling before him, her face pressed to his groin, mouth and lips working to please him, Gemma didn't even try to deny the deliciously submissive arousal she felt, and concentrated on sucking and licking his flesh to give him the climax he wanted and which she fervently wished to give.

His strong hands grasped handfuls of her hair, then pressed her face tight to his belly. She spluttered helplessly, her cheeks bulging when his throbbing maleness filled every crevice of her mouth. Instinctively, she tried to draw back, her hands coming from behind her spine to attempt to push him away. A squeal of pain burst from her nose when a crop cracked across her buttocks, bringing flaring heat.

It was her Master, Nicos' voice from behind her and Gemma's belly filled with churning need while his calm command and stinging crop forced her to obey. At the mercy of her two Masters and their inflexible discipline, Gemma dared not resist and redoubled her efforts; her tongue and lips squeezing and working furiously while Axel grew even larger in her mouth as his climax neared its peak. His hips bucked massively, once, twice and then again and Gemma's mouth filled with his hot salty juices while he came and came; her throat working desperately while his seed jetted and pulsed, some escaping past her pursed lips to dribble down her chin and over her heaving breasts.

His deep groan of fulfillment accompanied Gemma's gasps when he climaxed and her belly burned with delicious warmth as she savoured the submissive joy of pleasuring a Master in the most intimate way possible. Axel pulled her face from his belly.

"Not bad, slave." he grated, but his eyes glinted with pleasure, and his reddened face told Gemma that her performance had been far better than his words admitted. "Yes, not bad at all. You like oral Nicos? Do you want to give her a try? She's really pretty good for a new slave."

"So I saw, my friend!" Nicos replied good humouredly and Gemma blushed with pride and embarrassment, "But I shall wait until she visits my yacht and I can enjoy the many talents she undoubtedly possesses, in the open air and sunshine."

Gemma could not control the gasp of excitement his words evoked and Nicos smiled knowingly.

"Ah, slave, you like that idea, I see! That is good. I shall look forward to it." and his dark eyes bored into Gemma's while her bells tinkled softly to the trembles which shook her body.

"Suit yourself, Nicos. Come on, let's leave her now. Those piercings have still got to finish healing and when they have she'll be going on to Alicia and Lydia."

"True Axel. I would not mind being present for that. They have quite a reputation for being ... imaginative ... and I'm sure it will be most entertaining. At least for them. Farewell for now, slave, I will see you again, quite soon." and the dark haired Cypriot Master turned away.

The door swung closed and Gemma heard the bolts slide across. She was alone and imprisoned and soon, she would be the slave of two hard, demanding Mistresses. Her belly kicked powerfully while she wondered what lay in store. Lydia was the surgeon who had pierced and ringed her nipples and Alicia had told Gemma that she would be taught to please Mistresses as well as Masters.

Two women...two Mistresses...and imaginative ones, at that. Gemma shivered with anxiety and anticipation, her bells jingling musically. She would inevitably be made to submit to them both ... dominant females themselves. How would they treat a submissive female? Would they be kinder than the men, or even tougher?

It stood on the driveway outside Axel's home, looking like an ordinary wooden crate about three feet on all sides and with no distinguishing markings. To any casual observer it would have appeared quite unremarkable with nothing to separate it from the thousands of other similar crates used every day to transport goods about the world. To any that is, who was unaware that what he or she was looking at was, in fact, a carefully-designed and thoroughly tested method of transferring slavegirls from one location to another in safety, total security and absolute discretion. Had the walls of the box been transparent rather than of surprisingly thick plywood backed by several inches of sound deadening foam rubber, the same observer would have been able to see that the crate contained a naked girl gagged into silence and bound into immobility by heavy, locked straps.

Gemma sat on the padded floor of the crate, her legs half bent, knees and ankles lashed firmly together, with straps to top, bottom and sides of the crate preventing the slightest movement of her lower limbs. Further straps, equally tight, held her at hips, waist, chest, neck and forehead while her wrists and elbows were clamped rigidly to the sides of the box by yet more of the heavy thick straps, reducing to zero her chances of attracting unwanted attention to her plight. The broad black gag strap covering her face from over her nose to chin and its attached leather cylinder wedged deep between her parted jaws, reduced her loudest protests to only the smallest stifled mumbles, and even these were soaked up by the thick foam rubber sound-proofing of her mobile prison.

Sealed into the crate by Masters impervious to her arguments and pleas, Gemma could hear and see nothing and was quite unable to move or make any noise that might alert a passerby to her situation. She could but wait with as much patience as she possessed for the crate to be opened and her bonds to be released. Where that would be, and when, and by whom, she could only speculate and the knowledge that she was entirely helpless, as well as completely naked, fuelled both her anxieties and her steadily increasing sense of masochistic arousal. Her Masters had told her that she was to be taken to her new Mistresses, Alicia and Lydia, but crated as she was, her actual destination could be anywhere and the uncertainty added to the ferment building in her belly.

What if they'd not been telling the truth? What if the crate was unsealed to reveal her nudity to complete strangers? Would it be an Arab sheikh's harem? A Japanese geisha house or a South American slave ranch? The possibilities were endless and her mind ran riot, conjuring up more and more outrageous scenarios, each worse than the last, but each shamefully arousing when she envisioned herself in ever stricter bondage and sexual servitude.

Sitting on the crate, unaware of the turmoil seething in the brain and body of their imprisoned captive, Axel and Nicos chatted desultorily as they awaited the arrival of Gemma's new Mistresses. Axel patted the crate with a huge hand.

"Good design, this. Much better than the old model. Can't hear a thing." and he chuckled softly.

"Mmm," Nicos agreed, "Better securing straps, too. She cannot move a muscle. No chance of her wriggling around and somebody wondering what all the noise is about." his dark eyes glittered with humour when he remembered Gemma's wide brown eyes staring up at him as the lid closed over her.

Axel nodded, then looked up as a small panel truck turned into the driveway and stopped, Lydia and Alicia stepping down from the cab.

"Hi, guys. That for us?" Alicia was in a very good mood and the two men smiled back at her as she indicated the crate.

"That's it. One crate and contents, all ready for delivery. Do you want a hand?"

"No thanks. We can manage." she said shortly and the men exchanged glances before standing back and letting the women carry on.

Even with Gemma inside, the crate wasn't all that heavy and the two Mistresses soon had it loaded into the van.

The women climbed aboard and drove slowly off while in the back, Gemma felt the vibrations of the engine and knew she was on her way. Once again and her belly churned as she was transported towards an uncertain, but unavoidable future ...

"I see that Lydia still has no time for men." Nicos said slowly, smiling as the van passed out of sight.

"Yes," Axel agreed, "no change there. She still likes girls and the more submissive and obedient the better."

"She certainly is and Lydia will make sure she lives up to the highest possible standards. I wish her luck, she's going to need it."

It was about an hour after that conversation took place that Gemma felt the van stop, reverse a short distance, then stop again and the engine vibrations die away. Wherever she had been taken, she had arrived, and she sucked in a deep, calming breath, wondering what she would be faced with when her crate was opened. She felt herself lifted and carried a short distance, then came a bump when the crate was put down, followed by a sensation of increased weight. It dawned on her at once. She was in a lift, going up. The trip took only seconds, then she was lifted, moved and put down for the second time.

She listened intently for any clue to her whereabouts, but the sound deadening in the crate worked both ways and she could not hear a thing. Minutes slipped by and still nothing happened, until finally the hinged top of her prison began to open. Panting through flared nostrils, her body trembling and her bells tinkling softly, Gemma saw the faces of her newest captors. Alicia and Lydia, her Mistresses, stared down at their helplessly bound slave and their lips curved into cruel smiles while their cold eyes inspected every exposed inch of Gemma's defenceless body and checked the tightness of her bondage.

Gemma gazed up at them and gulped down an icy lump that rose to her throat when she saw the wolfish smiles on their faces. She had wondered if Mistresses would be less harsh and demanding than Masters, then saw her answer in the anticipatory gleam in their eyes. There would be no relaxation of the discipline and obedience demanded of her ... and Gemma knew it instantly. Alicia chuckled throatily.

"Welcome to your new home, slavegirl. I'm sure the three of us will get on splendidly."

"Provided you do exactly as we tell you, when we tell you," Lydia's tone was uncompromising, the unspoken threat clear to Gemma, who could not even nod her head to signify her understanding.

"Now, now, Lydia." Alicia chuckled again, "Let's not frighten her too much. I'm sure she knows what she has to do. If not, we have ways of reminding her, but let's not worry about that at the moment." she flashed a smile at the helpless slavegirl, but Gemma was not fooled. The smile meant nothing, certainly not that Gemma would be permitted the tiniest laxity. Other Masters had smiled, too ... and then punished her.

"Now then, slave, listen carefully. You are in my penthouse and it's fifteen floors up, so don't even think about climbing down. The lift we brought you up in needs a key to operate it and the emergency exit is a locked steel door. There is no one else on this floor and the one below is all machinery and plant rooms, so nobody will hear you if you shout for help.

"Oh, and you might note that this is the tallest building for several miles, so there's no point hoping someone will see you, if you try to attract attention. You are here, we are here and you're going to stay here until we let you go. Get used to it."

Gemma's spirits sank when the blonde Alicia spoke. The two Mistresses seemed to have thought of everything and Gemma realised she was just as much a prisoner as she had been in all of her other Masters' homes. Her depression was joined by a growing fear when the dark haired Lydia bent low and stared into her eyes from only a few inches away.

"That's right. You can't get away slave, so you had better behave. I told you when I pierced your breasts that you belonged to me and my colleagues and I warned you to be obedient when you visited me. Well, here you are, and I can assure you that I do not stand any nonsense from my slaves. I expect perfection and if I do not get it, you will suffer."

She reached down and Gemma gave a great whimper of terror as the woman showed her a thin, whippy riding crop then sent it whistling through the air inches above Gemma's naked, cowering flesh.

"Don't say you haven't been warned, girl!" she hissed, "I enjoy making slaves obey me and I won't mind how often you need to be disciplined." and she gave a mirthless laugh that sent chills of horror racing up Gemma's naked spine.

Mistress Lydia was quite obviously telling the truth and Gemma didn't doubt for a moment that she would be ruthlessly punished for any failings. Her belly surged with a mixture of fright and arousal and thoughts of disobedience or resistance never even crossed her mind. Gemma knew what she had become and surrendered without a fight to the overwhelming power and dominance of her Mistresses, her brown eyes softening and dropping from the stern gaze of Mistress Lydia as she submitted.

"Good, that's settled." Lydia snorted, "Now we all know where we stand. I'm going to have a drink. Do you want one, Alicia?"

"Lovely. Scotch and water, please." and she leaned on the top of the crate, smiling down at Gemma while Lydia made the drinks and fetched them.

With the Scotch in her right hand she reached down casually and Gemma shuddered when the ring through her left nipple was lifted. Electric arousal shot through her breast and she squealed hopelessly, unable to hide her reaction while her Mistress toyed with the steel circlet, Gemma's excruciatingly sensitive nipple becoming rock hard in seconds.

"Hmm. Interesting," the blonde observed and Gemma moaned bitterly, knowing her body had betrayed her once more and that her weakness would be catalogued for future use against her.

Between her bound legs, a moist warmth grew as she was aroused, but she could not defend herself or prevent its insidious growth and felt her will power draining away while she succumbed to the sensual pleasure of inevitable submission. Lydia watched, a cruel smile at her lips and then followed suit, her slim fingers toying with the ring at Gemma's right breast, the captive slave vibrating in her bonds as her torment doubled.

"Of course," Lydia said softly, "Nipple rings can have other uses." and she gave the ring between her fingers a vicious tweak.

Gemma's fingers clawed vainly, a shrill gasp torn from her nose when the cruel twist sent a sharp jolt of pain spearing through her vulnerable breast.

"They can be most useful for disciplining and training purposes," Lydia went on calmly, giving a second tweak and Gemma reacted exactly as before, her eyes wide with horror and terrified understanding when she was forced to realise exactly what Lydia meant.

She could be controlled with one finger, the merest flick of her Mistress's wrist, more than enough to ensure her absolute and instantaneous obedience. The shock was devastating! Gemma had never even imagined the possibility that her nipple rings would be used for such a purpose. The sudden revelation that her nipple/breast rings were not just decorative pieces of metal embedded in some of her most sensitive flesh, and could be ... and would be used to both control and punish her ... lit a massive fire of pure submissive lust in Gemma's swirling belly. She shuddered wildly to the flaring need imposed upon her.

"So I see." Alicia grinned, recognizing Gemma's uncontrollable response, "Two birds with one stone. Arousal or discipline, or, of course, both at the same time. I like it!"

Her fingers interspersed gentle, arousing caresses of Gemma's ringed nipple with artful tugs to send a devilish mixture of overwhelming pleasure and painful twinges through the shuddering, moaning and utterly vulnerable captive. Held by her implacable bonds, the straps imprinting their marks on her soft skin, Gemma's passion built to a quivering peak while her two Mistresses combined to torment her beyond bearing. Sweat sprang out all over her body as she struggled vainly to free herself and ease the terrible, yet delicious burning of her wild arousal.

Unable to reach the ultimate release of the orgasm so close within her, Gemma mumbled frantic pleas into her gag, begging to be made to submit, her eyes filled with the humble desire of a slavegirl who knew her pleasure was dependent on the whim of her Mistresses.

"Randy little bitch!" Lydia chuckled, "You want it, don't you?" and Gemma whimpered in need, her desperation all too obvious to the brunette.

"Will you promise to be a good little slave if we give you what you want? Will you promise to be obedient, docile and humble if we make you come? Will you crawl on your knees and beg to be allowed to please us, slave? Well? Will you?" Lydia's mocking taunts brought a vivid scarlet flush to the slavegirl's gagged cheeks, because Gemma was shamefully aware that she would do all of those things and more, to earn the climax she needed so desperately. She could not answer, but her eyes mirrored the truth and Lydia smiled triumphantly.

"I do believe you will, slave!" she laughed, "Very well, we shall let you come ... but then it will be our turn and you will honour all of your promises, won't you ... ?"

It was not really a question. Both Gemma and her Mistresses knew it and anticipated it with mixed feelings, the two women with undisguised pleasure and Gemma with serious misgivings. She had never pleasured a woman before ... but she was going to have to very soon.

Working as a team, Alicia and Lydia swiftly released the straps holding Gemma, then, before her stiffened limbs regained their strength and flexibility, rolled her from the crate, flipped her over onto her belly and locked her wrists behind her back. Face down on thick, soft carpet, Gemma only had time to see that she lay at one end of a huge, modern, expensively-furnished apartment; the far wall an expanse of glass looking out on to a large garden patio with a superb view of a city and, farther away, green, tree-covered hills. None of which was the slightest use to her, because she didn't recognise any of it. Her speculations ended when Alicia issued her next command.

Gemma rose to her feet, feeling arousal coiling in her belly as she obeyed, then jerked, yelping in shock when Lydia's crop sliced across her buttocks and she woman snapped at her.

Gemma forced her body erect, pulling her shoulders back as she had been trained and did her best to ignore the smarting of her bottom when she moved across the floor, her hips swaying fluidly while she placed each foot carefully in front of the other, exactly as catwalk models do. The room she entered was a bedroom, probably Alicia's to judge by the number of cosmetics and perfumes littering the dressing table. The room was nearly as large as the one she had just left, but even so was dominated by a giant Empress-sized bed, its corners marked by turned brass posts as thick as her thigh. Worryingly, dangling from a brass hook above the bed, Gemma spotted a familiar object, one she had hoped to have seen the last of. It was a Devil's Palm, its five broad thongs declaring its purpose unmistakably and its position, within easy reach of the occupant of the bed, showing that it was no mere decoration.

"I see you recognise my little toy, slavegirl." Alicia murmured softly, "I find that having it in plain sight encourages slaves to be obedient."

Gemma could well believe it, then realised that her Mistress was not only talking about her. 'Slaves' she had said and Gemma shivered, knowing that she was not the first enslaved female to share Alicia's bed. As well, she knew without a doubt that her Mistress would not accept Gemma's shame or inexperience as an excuse, should she fail to be pleasing.

Gemma gulped, having no choice but to comply, and stared anxiously down past her prominent, naked, ringed breasts while she spread her thighs and exposed herself humiliatingly. Metal clinked and she fought to hold her position and avoid being punished while her Mistresses stretched steel chains from each of the lower bed posts and clipped them to her ankle cuffs, the slack in the links only allowing Gemma to partially close her legs.

Lydia's sarcasm confirmed Gemma's fears. Her Mistresses intended to spread eagle her and she realised at once that when her wrists were chained to the posts at the top of the bed, the slack in the chains at her ankles would be lost. She would be stretched out flat, like a giant starfish, her body completely open and exposed. The thought of what was to happen to her and the knowledge that she would be severely punished if she tried to resist was frighteningly exciting. Conditioned as she was to respond exactly, Gemma couldn't control the waves of delicious arousal which washed through her body when Alicia took her left wrist and Lydia her right then pulled her arms up and out towards the top corners of the massive bed. A second later, the chains to her ankles drew taut and arching her neck, she watched in fascination when the chains were clipped to her wrist cuffs, then carefully shortened to hold her limbs fully extended and her body hugely spread.

With her Mistresses looking on, Gemma tested her bondage, satisfying herself and them that she was most securely fixed, with no hope of freeing herself, then she lay passive, her eyes filled with longing and a humble acceptance of their power over her. Lydia seated herself on the side of the bed and Gemma's belly flesh fluttered when her strong hand descended on her left hip.

Gemma nodded eagerly and her Mistress laughed to see a slave's desire so clearly demonstrated.

"Well then, perhaps we should do something about it." and her fingers slid inwards across the hot curve of Gemma's belly to the thick tangle of bushy curls marking the entrance to her sex, then paused.

Gemma's fingers and toes curled in her frustration and she gave a soft pleading groan, which turned to a gasp when Alicia sat down on the other side of the bed and her hand, fingers outstretched in a fan, dropped lightly onto Gemma's taut right breast. For long seconds, the two Mistresses kept their slave waiting, their hands unmoving, and Gemma whimpered with unbearable need while she was forced to learn again that her own desires, no matter how strong, were not hers to satisfy.

"Never forget, slave," Alicia whispered, "Who are the Mistresses and who is the slave." and the tips of her slim fingers brushed across Gemma's up thrust and achingly sensitive nipple.

Instantly responsive, Gemma's haplessly available body shuddered massively, her nipple hardening to a quivering peak when blistering arousal surged through her in obedience to the touch of her Mistress. Alicia chuckled throatily.

Her chained victim moaned softly, unable to resist or deny the submissive desire re-kindled in her trembling belly, then a strangled shriek leaked past the thick gag sealing Gemma's jaws when her other Mistress, Lydia, allowed her fingers to toy with the soft, pinkly engorged flesh of Gemma's labia. The exquisitely tender lips of her sex were drawn back to be held wide open and defenceless by her strict bondage. Gasping with horror and shame together with a furious need, Gemma struggled to raise her head then stared down past her naked breasts to the wide "V" of her spread thighs and the skilled fingers of the Mistress who controlled and tormented her with such unbearable pleasure.

Lydia's eyes glittered with triumph, her perfect teeth bared in a wide grin and Gemma gulped in delightful fear, knowing that her Mistress relished the power she commanded and that she would not be satisfied until Gemma was forced to surrender unconditionally. Her head fell back, brain reeling and, as she did so, her twin Mistresses began their irresistible assault on her helpless nudity.

Alicia's fingers captured each of her breasts, rolling and squeezing Gemma's nipples, tweaking her nipple rings until the hapless brunette writhed and twisted in her bonds with the combination of sensual pleasure and bitter-sweet pain sending her spinning out of control. At the same time the delicate fingers of Lydia explored, caressed and probed the very core of Gemma's femininity, sliding over, around and into the wet, slick heat of her sex to send overwhelming arousal flooding through her contorting belly.

Gemma could not have resisted for a single moment, even if she had wanted to, and her spread eagled body bucked madly against her securing chains as she was driven higher and higher in a sexual frenzy she could not control. Instantly, her body was bathed in sweat and her screams, squeals and pleas for mercy were completely unheeded by Mistresses. They were determined upon her absolute and total subjugation and knew exactly how to force it from her. Gemma climaxed shatteringly. Great explosions of sensation crashed into her belly when she came; her muffled wail of surrender punctuated by gasping snorts while she sucked huge gulps of air through her nose. Her belly pulsed and fluttered erratically, kicking to the frightening power of her enforced orgasm when her mind and body gave up their tribute to the erotic skills and dominance of her ruthless Mistresses.

Slumped in her bonds, helpless prey to the fury of the climax raging through her, Gemma wept for shame and joy and despair at the slavegirl she had become, loving and yet horrified by her captivity and the humiliating ecstasy of her inevitable submissions. She was unable to deny the bursting pleasure of her stupendous orgasms while still deeply ashamed of the responses so easily forced from her trained body ... but all the while realising that she had never, ever, known such passion, such desire, such wonderful, blissful pleasure as she found when bound as the helpless captive of strong, utterly dominant Owners.

Collared and ringed as a slavegirl, she knew she had no choice, and knew too, that with every passing day, her will to escape and be free once more, grew less and less until she was no longer sure, even in her own mind, that freedom was what she really wanted. Putting her doubts to the back of her mind, Gemma relaxed in the hazy afterglow of her climax, her belly flooded with warmth and the memory of unutterable pleasure.

The touch of hands on her limbs and the relaxation of her bonds brought her swimming back up from her near-doze and when her chains were released, she clambered stiffly to her knees and presented her body as she had been trained, remaining quite still as Lydia padlocked a single, long chain to her right ankle and Alicia unbuckled her gag then pulled it from her mouth. Casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, Gemma's two Mistresses shed their clothes and joined their naked slave on the huge bed, laying one on each side of her kneeling form.

"Yes," Alicia agreed, "And don't forget, my little toy is still up there if we do not find your performance satisfactory."

She nodded meaningfully at the Devil's Palm hanging from its hook above the bed. Gemma looked up and swallowed nervously, then looked down at her two Mistresses, calmly waiting for her to please them both. Alicia to her left, slim and elegant, her fingers intertwined behind her blonde head, blue eyes gleaming with anticipation, and Lydia, shorter, dark-haired, more solidly built with larger, heavier breasts, propped up on her right elbow, her face filled with determination.

"Be quiet, slavegirl!" Lydia snapped waspishly. "We don't need you to speak, do we Alicia? Just get on with it."

Alicia nodded cheerfully and Gemma trembled, realising that she had no option but to obey. Slowly, she reached down and allowed her extended fingers to cup the breasts of her Mistresses, her thumbs pressing and then rolling their nipples just as her own nipples had been played with so many times. It should have been no surprise to Gemma that the two women reacted to having their nipples caressed in exactly the same way that she always did Breathy gasps of arousal and wriggles of pleasure hissed into the room when their crinkled buttons began to harden, and her eyes widened with astonishment and delight at her success as her Mistresses responded. Emboldened, she experimented cautiously, using all of her fingers to squeeze and flick and knead their breasts, enjoying the soft squeals and archings of their bodies when her efforts had their effect.

"A little harder, slave. Ooh, yes, that's sssooo good! Now my other breast. Gently, gently."

"Kiss it, slave. I want to feel your lips." that was Lydia, and Gemma flushed but did not dare to disobey. Her lips trapped the brunette's rigid nipple, nibbling gently and Lydia's body vibrated like a dynamo as her hands clamped around Gemma's head, holding the slavegirl's face to her breast.

Gemma's flush deepened, but it was far too late to pretend modesty and she gave a mental shrug, bowing to the inevitable. Lydia's erect nipple slipped into her mouth, delightfully hard and warm against her tongue and Gemma, to her surprise and embarrassment, felt a shiver of definite arousal ripple up her spine as she licked and sucked the fleshy button. With her face pressed to Lydia's ample breast and her right hand busy arousing Lydia's right nipple, Gemma felt her left hand moved downward to the moist warmth of Alicia's sex. The blonde's fingers pressed Gemma's into place and, for the very first time in her life, Gemma felt the velvet softness of another woman's most intimate and tender spot.

"Caress me, slavegirl." Alicia ordered throatily, then as Gemma hesitated, added, "Do it, slave! Or I shall use my little toy on your bottom."

There was no doubt Alicia meant what she said and Gemma capitulated at once, well aware that she would be given no second chance. Her slim fingers slid down the moist, fleshy cleft of her Mistress, slowly and clumsily at first, then with growing confidence as the blonde gasped and wriggled to her touch, Alicia's thighs parting to allow Gemma to penetrate between the soft lips of her labia.

"Now me, slavegirl," Lydia demanded, releasing her grip on Gemma's head and the enslaved brunette sat back on her heels, her right hand going to the joint of Lydia's thighs and applying delicate caresses to the sensitive flesh between her second Mistress's muscular legs, even as her fingers continued their work on her first Mistress. Kneeling between the two dominants, hearing their moans and gasps of pleasure and watching their bodies writhe, Gemma's embarrassment vanished, replaced by a trilling sense of power and control as the two women arched and contorted beneath her hands, responding to the demands of her fingers as if they, not she, were the slaves.

Greatly daring, Gemma took her hands from their bellies and tweaked the nipples so shamelessly displayed, her lips parting in a broad grin when the women whimpered in unison, then sent her fingers burrowing between their thighs once more to bring groans of unbearable pleasure from their lips.

Enslaved for months, never once permitted to disobey or control her own fate, the sudden, unexpected power was an enormous turn on for Gemma and she felt her own groin grow slick with the juices of her arousal as she tormented her erstwhile Mistresses and savoured their need and the helpless responses her touch forced from them. Again and again she sent her fingers from bellies to breasts and back again, until her Mistresses ... her victims, moaned in delicious frustration and their hips thrust up to meet her fingers, offering their bodies shamelessly to her. Gemma was in Paradise, controlling two dominants with the merest flick of her fingers, no longer the helpless submissive but, temporarily at least, in charge.

She knew it could not last, knew that she would soon be the slave once more, but while it did, she savoured every moan, every gasp, every wild judder and contortion of her Mistress's bodies, storing up the memories against the inevitable moment when the two women would re-impose their dominance over her. At last, bathed in sweat, Lydia twisted her body away from Gemma's attentions, seized her wrists and locked her cuffs together behind her back. She gripped Gemma's jaw in her strong fingers and stared deep into her eyes.

"Very good, slavegirl. You show more promise than we had imagined. So far, you have been pleasing, but now it is time for you to finish the job and satisfy us both." she paused and chuckled softly, "With your lips."

Gemma gulped and licked her dry lips, then watched in growing anxiety as her Mistress reached up and took the Devil's Palm from its hook above the bed then with a cruel grin, Lydia trailed the five leather straps through her fingers.

"Well, slave? What are you waiting for? Satisfy your Mistress!" and she gestured towards Alicia who lay on the bed, legs spread and a predatory smile on her face.

Shuffling on her knees, she moved between Alicia's parted thighs and bent forward until her lips nuzzled against the blonde's mass of curly pubic hair. Alicia's hands gripped the back of her head, guiding her and Gemma swallowed hard, flushing redly as the blonde instructed her in the art of female love making. Under orders, she kissed her Mistress's smooth, moist labia, allowed her lips to nibble at the hard, protruding nub of her clitoris, trailed her tongue up and down the full length of her palpitating sex and, finally, sent it spearing into the depths of her belly to trigger an explosive climax as the blonde squealed with devastating pleasure and her sweet, hot, only vaguely salty love juices flooded into her belly and sex and over Gemma's embedded tongue and lips.

Sated, a beatific smile on her face, Alicia pulled Gemma's face from her groin and gave her a long, sensual kiss, her tongue exploring Gemma's mouth and adding to the slavegirl's desire and confusion as she felt her arousal swirl hotter despite her shame at being forced to make love to another woman.

Gemma knew she wasn't a lesbian. She wasn't ... was she? She hadn't been, but then, before her captivity, she hadn't been a slave, either. Whatever the truth was, one fact remained unchanged ... while she wore the rings and collar of a slavegirl, she must be whatever her Masters and Mistresses demanded, and she could not deny the flaring heat of arousal which filled her belly. While Gemma debated, her Mistresses acted, changing places and she forced her mind back to her current situation as Lydia reclined on the bed and smiled cruelly up into her eyes.

"I want pleasure, slave!" she hissed, "And you are going to supply it. Please me, slave, or you will suffer." and her dark eyes glittered with malice.

Gemma shivered and then squealed in pain as the terrible Devil's Palm cracked across her unprotected buttocks and stinging heat erupted across her bottom.

"Yes, Mistress!" she yelped, "I will please you, Mistress! Truly I will!" and she thrust her face down, licking and sucking desperately at the slick, wet core of the brunette's femininity, her only desire, to satisfy her demanding Mistresses and avoid further pain.

No longer was she in control, no longer the powerful tormentor, able to toy with her Mistress's bodies and bring gasps and pleas from them. The tables had turned with a vengeance and Gemma struggled feverishly to be pleasing, as the humble, submissive and helpless slavegirl she again was. Twice more the stinging lash descended and twice more Gemma screamed as her flinching buttocks were striped with reddened heat, each time her lips and tongue redoubling their efforts to give her Mistress what she demanded, each cruel blow reinforcing her abject submission and increasing the turmoil bubbling in her belly as she surrendered ever more deeply to her subjugation.

Lydia's belly pulsed violently as she reached her climax and Gemma lapped helplessly at the sweetly scented outpourings of her Mistress's body as the brunette's sex throbbed against her lips and she squealed in ecstasy as she came and came. Gemma's brown eyes filled with tears of pain and shame as she knelt helpless while her Mistress recovered, but she knew better than to speak without permission and waited patiently until her Mistresses chose to address her.

Some moments later, fully dressed, the two dominants smiled down at their naked captive.

"Indeed. You show considerable promise. A few weeks in our hands and you will be even better."

"Yes, very much better. Nevertheless, a good start for a first attempt. It was your first time, was it not, slavegirl?"

Gemma dared not look up, for she feared that her face would betray the helpless arousal the words sent racing through her body. She had already been trained to please Masters with her mouth and now she must learn to please Mistresses in the same way.

Ordered from the bed, she knelt humbly as the chain from her ankle was removed, shortened and then locked to her collar, holding her kneeling at the head of the bed, her arms still securely cuffed behind her.

"It's late, slavegirl. Get some rest. We will continue with your training in the morning."

As her Mistresses left the room, Gemma stared miserably after them, her belly swirling with unsatisfied heat. She was hungry and in need, but she was their slavegirl and dared not protest. Sadly, she lay down on the carpet and made herself as comfortable as her bonds and the hard floor allowed, resigning herself to the discomfort and frustration. Her Mistresses had not chosen to ease her needs and she could not. She must simply endure.

As her eyelids slowly closed, Gemma visualised the training she was to receive. Training which would leave her no excuse for failing to please either a Master or a Mistress. She would be expected, and forced if necessary, to serve and satisfy any member of The Consortium and failure would be ruthlessly punished.

Lights blazed in all of the rooms of Alicia's penthouse apartment and strings of fairy lights turned the garden patio beyond the open glass double doors into a mysterious blend of light and deep, flickering shadows as the gentle, warm breeze set the lanterns swaying.

Inside, several low tables groaned under the weight of drinks and food and a top quality CD player provided a background of soft music as Gemma, naked but for her rings, collar and cuffs, hurried from one spot to another, checking to make certain that the meticulous instructions of her Mistress had been carried out to the letter. In the weeks she had spent with Alicia and Lydia, Gemma had learned that it did not pay to overlook even the smallest detail of the women's wishes and her lips moved silently as she reviewed the arrangements, ensuring that absolutely everything was as perfect as she could make it.

It was not as if her Mistresses were particularly cruel, but they were exceedingly strict and Gemma's buttocks had often felt the Devil's Palm and the crop when she had failed to satisfy and she had no wish for the experience to be repeated. Satisfied that all was well, Gemma dropped to her knees, wrists crossed behind her back and thighs widely spread as Mistress Alicia strode into the room, her keen gaze sweeping around the room, then settling on her naked slavegirl.

Gemma allowed herself to relax slightly, relieved that the blonde had not been able to find a fault and use it as an excuse to punish her. The lift doors hissed open and Gemma's other Mistress, Lydia, joined them, a shoe box under her arm.

Gemma rose to her feet worriedly. Lydia was in a very good mood and that usually meant she had thought of some new way to humiliate her slave. Lydia ripped the lid off the box and pulled out the contents and Gemma gaped uncomprehendingly at a gleaming pair of patent leather shoes, but shoes with heels higher than Gemma had ever seen in her life. Her Mistress held them up, turning them this way and that so that the lights reflected dazzlingly as she showed Gemma her new footwear.

"Six inch heels, slavegirl. Specially made for you. And these ankle straps lock so that once they're on, they stay on, you see. Right! Give me your foot."

Obediently, Gemma raised her leg and allowed the shoe to be slid on, her eyes widening when she felt the height of the heel force her foot into an arch, almost putting her on tip toe. Lydia buckled the strap around Gemma's ankle and snapped the small padlock closed.

As her weight came on to her high heel shod foot, Gemma tottered and almost fell, unused to the difference they made to her balance, and was thankful to feel Alicia's arm steadying her. She shot her blonde Mistress a grateful smile, then gazed down as the second shoe was fitted and locked on and Lydia stood up, grinning.

Gemma stared down. Her Mistress was right, the shoes did look good. Good, and very, very sexy, making her legs seem longer and slimmer, but, already she could feel an ache starting in her calves, brought on by the stress of her impossibly high heels. What her legs would feel like after an hour or two, didn't bear thinking about, but aches or no aches, there was no way she would be able to remove the shoes, no matter how uncomfortable she got.

"I'm going to let go of your arm now, slavegirl. Stand up really straight, that should help you to balance."

Gemma forced her shoulders back, holding herself as erect as she could and concentrated on not falling over while her Mistresses inspected her.

"Keeps her on her toes. Literally. I love the way she has to tense her calves to keep her balance."

"Mmm. The men will really like that. They just love high heels on a slavegirl. No clothes, of course, just high heels."

Lydia's mocking laughter brought bright spots of colour to Gemma's cheeks, because she knew her Mistress was quite correct. Masters would enjoy the enforced tension her high heels imposed on her body, and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. Her belly quivered deliciously. She might not be able to do anything, but the men, her Masters, certainly could ... and no doubt would.

"Go into the lounge, slavegirl." Alicia's order broke into Gemma's erotic daydream, "We have to get ready for our guests."

Concentrating intensely, Gemma made her slow, very careful way from the bedroom, teetering on her precipitous heels, aware of the growing ache in her calves, but strangely excited by the knowledge that in her heels and her nudity and her bondage, she presented a picture that exuded sexuality and would make her irresistible to her Mistresses' guests. Irresistible and available, for Gemma had no illusions about the men and women who would be at the party, nor what their common interest would be. Her belly burned with a slow heat when her Mistresses ordered her to halt beside a low, sturdy coffee table with a thick glass top, and her mind raced when she saw a shining steel pole terminating in a steel ring, rising some two feet above the glass at one end.

Lydia's voice was uncompromising and Gemma knew that she had best obey, unless she wanted to meet her Mistresses' guests with fresh whip marks emblazoned across her buttocks. The table's surface was cold and Gemma shivered as her flesh met the glass, but the momentary discomfort was instantly forgotten when she looked down at her crossed ankles. The glass on which she sat was mirrored, reflecting perfectly every recess and crevice of her parted sex. The shock of seeing herself so shamefully exposed was awful, but not as awful as the realisation, a split second later, that anyone who stood near the table would be treated to the same humiliatingly detailed exhibition. Horrified, Gemma turned to her Mistresses and her belly kicked powerfully when she saw that they both wore identically cruel smiles.

"That's right, slavegirl. You're going to be the centrepiece of our little party. You'll give our guests something to look at while they're eating." Alicia said calmly and Gemma shivered wildly, the bells at her nipples betraying the mixture of horror and arousal she felt.

"Until they decide to eat you, anyway." Lydia added spitefully and the shocked brunette gave a low moan of anguish, uncrossing her legs in preparation for climbing off the table.

"Keep still, slave!!" Alicia's harsh command cut through Gemma's moan like a knife, freezing her in place, "One more sound or one more movement and you'll wish you'd never been born. I mean it, slave. Now get back in position."

Gemma's agonised face turned up to her Mistress, but found no trace of sympathy in the blonde's cold eyes and so with a shudder of despair, she resumed her shameful pose.

The distraught brunette forced herself to keep still while the two dominants lashed her crossed and already steel-cuffed ankles in place to the base of the post with tight black leather straps. Helpless, she leaned forward while a padlock was slipped through the ring on the front of her steel collar and snapped into the ring at the top of the post, holding her bent and unable to straighten, powerless to resist as a short strap from the rear of her collar was attached to her wrist cuffs, holding her arms high up behind her shoulder blades in a double hammer lock.

The bells at her ringed nipples jingled continuously when she tested her bondage and found herself utterly helpless and her brown eyes gazed wildly down at the reflected image of her defenceless body. She couldn't move but could see only too clearly her absolute vulnerable availability to the touch of anyone who cared to arouse or torment her. Seconds later, she was unable even to protest or beg for mercy for a huge, thick leather gag was forced deep into her mouth, silencing and preventing even token resistance on her part.

Thus secured for the pleasure of her Mistresses and their guests, Gemma trembled wildly after the two women left her to go and change, her eyes seeking vainly for something, anything, to help her. Her muscles tensed uselessly against her bonds in a fruitless efforts to escape. As she had feared, her struggles were useless and as the hum of the lift came to her ears, Gemma ceased her futile resistance and summoned up what few defences she had to face the inevitable. Her Mistresses, resplendent in long evening dresses, walked past their displayed slavegirl, ignoring her completely when they went to greet their guests and Gemma bit down hard on her gag, hearing the friendly greetings, deep male laughter and softer female voices of the arriving group.

"Ah, Gemma my dear. How nice to see you again." Roxwell loomed over her, dressed in an immaculate dinner jacket, his deep set eyes drinking in her helpless nudity. "You already know Axel and Nicos, I believe." and Gemma closed her eyes, ashamed, as the giant, dinner-jacketed Axel leered at her ringed breasts,.

"Yes, we've already had the ... ah ... pleasure of meeting this slave, haven't we slave?" and he gave a loud snort of laughter.

"Indeed we have. Good evening, slavegirl." and Nicos gave her a slight bow, impeccable in evening dress.

Gemma flushed a deep scarlet when Roxwell introduced a fourth man, recognising him instantly as the unknown man who had taken her on the day her breasts had been pierced.

"This is Steven, girl. One of our little group in The Consortium. He has been away on business, but is now back and has been looking forward to meeting you again."

Of average height, with brown hair and a friendly, open face, Steven looked nothing like the ruthless Master Gemma knew he was and dropped her eyes from his steady gaze, remembering how she had begged him to take her. And he had.

"I've heard good things about you, slavegirl." he said pleasantly, "Let us both hope they are true, because I would not want to be disappointed." and for a brief moment his eyes hardened and Gemma saw the steel behind the easy-going exterior. Like each of her other Masters, he would not hesitate to take exactly what he wanted from her and she knew it.

The arrival of the lift bearing more guests broke up the little group around Gemma and it was some time later that she became aware that she was being scrutinised by a distinguished looking, grey haired man accompanied by a very tall, very slim redhead dressed in an extremely short, skin tight silk cheongsam split up the left thigh nearly to her waist. For several moments, the pair simply looked at Gemma's bondage and she coloured, knowing the image she presented and wondering who the two were. Alicia strolled over and Gemma's blush deepened as her Mistress offered a glass of champagne to the man, then spoke casually.

"Enjoying the show, Matthew? We think she makes a rather good piece of bondage art, don't you agree?"

"I certainly do. But tell me, Alicia, is she as obedient as she is pretty? After all, like any slave, her primary purpose is to be functional as well as merely decorative."

"Naturally!" Alicia frowned, then confirmed tartly, "Lydia and I are hardly novices at the training of slavegirls."

"Of course. I apologise, my dear. May I have your permission to test her initial responses?"

Gemma's eyes bulged at his casual enquiry and she spluttered into her gag, desperately hoping that her Mistress would refuse. Alicia chuckled indulgently.

"Well," she began, "we were planning on waiting until after the buffet, but I never could refuse you anything, could I you old rogue. Oh, very well, I can see that you're itching to test her out. Go on then, but don't blame me if the others get annoyed with you for jumping the gun."

Matthew's eyes twinkled merrily while he assured her that he wouldn't and Gemma strained hopelessly at her bonds when he and the redhead moved to stand directly in front of her, staring calmly down at her anguished, gagged face.

"Alicia tells me that you are a fully trained slavegirl." he said softly, "I wonder if you are?"

Gemma hung her head as much as the post at her throat would permit, her shame intense as his steady, pale blue eyes examined her, but he reached down and took her jaw in his fingers, raising her face until she stared directly up at him.

"Don't be shy, slavegirl." he admonished gently, "Masters do not permit modesty in their slaves. Your body is excellent and you might be whipped for attempting to hide it, might you not?" He did not wait for an answer which Gemma couldn't give and she stared numbly at him as he continued, "You are enslaved, but men have always enslaved women. You are merely the latest in a very long line and will most certainly not be the last. If you doubt me, I will prove it to you." He turned to his silent companion. "Tell her who and what you are."

"I am Clarissa and I am a slavegirl." she declared clearly and Gemma's jaw would have dropped open in stunned amazement if she hadn't been gagged.

"Not all slavegirls are ringed and wear steel on their limbs and neck." he told Gemma, "Outward symbols of slavery can sometimes be inconvenient, but that does not mean that dear Clarissa here is any less of a slave than you. Show her Clarissa. Show her how I have chosen to exhibit your submission to me."

The redhead's eyes flashed with suppressed anger when she heard his order, but she, just like Gemma, was obviously well aware of the penalties for disobedience and reached at once for the hem of her tight dress then pulled it up to her waist, at the same time spreading her shapely legs to give Gemma an unhindered view of her belly. Gemma gasped into her gag, any doubts she might have had about the other girl's slave status instantly dispelled. Clamped tightly about Clarissa's slim waist and between her thighs, a contoured steel chastity belt hugged her like a second skin, gleaming coldly in the bright lights and denying access to her body to any, including Clarissa herself.

Clarissa's white teeth gnawed at her lower lip and once she'd obeyed, Gemma saw that her bottom, neatly bisected by the steel belt, bore the tell tale red stripes of a clearly recent whipping.

"Clarissa was rather fractious earlier this evening, as you can see. I'm afraid I had to remind her of her duties somewhat forcefully, but I am confident she will be much more obedient now. Won't you slavegirl?" and his embarrassed submissive nodded swiftly.

"Good. Then arouse this slave for me. But not, repeat not, to climax. That shall wait until everyone can share the sight."

Gemma screamed into her gag, her bells jingling musically at her breasts when his words sank into her brain and the redhead dropped gracefully to her knees, just in front of her. Long, slim fingers reached out and Gemma juddered explosively when her breasts were captured, then blistering arousal crashing through her pinioned body when her hardened nipples were twirled and squeezed; rolled until they ached and throbbed unmercifully and her belly boiled with enforced lust. Almost at her peak, Gemma whimpered in despair and disbelief as Clarissa stopped, leaving her trembling on the brink of her climax, exactly as her Master had ordered. Gemma didn't want to believe the evidence of her own eyes and body, but as Clarissa stood up and took her place at the side of her Master, she had to. Clarissa was a slave. No less so, and perhaps even more so, than Gemma herself. Which meant that everything Gemma had been told about Masters and slaves was absolutely, literally true.

Stunned by the realisation that she was only one slave among many, Gemma wept bitter tears as Matthew turned away to join the other Masters and Mistresses enjoying the party, leaving her to her unyielding bondage. The furious heat of her arousal and the terrifying anticipation of having to wait until her Masters chose to complete her inevitable submission was a worse torture than a beating.

Time sped by as various members of The Consortium came over to enjoy the sight of Gemma's displayed nudity, but she barely noticed, for her mind was almost completely taken up by the shock of her arousal by Clarissa. Suddenly, the music was switched off and everyone in the room gathered around her. Helpless, Gemma moaned into her gag when her swollen breasts and damply glistening sex fell easy prey to the hands of her Masters, but no matter how she writhed, heaved and tugged at her bonds, she could not evade the overwhelming stimulation that each, in turn, imposed upon her. Time and again her nipples throbbed rigidly to skilled fingers. Time and again her clitoris thrust hard and exquisitely sensitive from its fleshy sheath and again and again her belly exploded in coruscating spasms while fingers penetrated her labia and sex to force her into uncounted, unstoppable orgasms. The glass top of the coffee table on which she sat became spattered and smeared with the silvery droplets of the sexual tribute wrung from her body by the merciless torment.

Only when Gemma sagged limply in her bonds, barely able to respond to further stimulation, did they take some small pity on her and withdraw to the drinks table to refresh themselves for a renewed assault upon her when she had somewhat recovered herself.

Totally devastated, her belly and breasts burning furiously from the shattering submissions forced upon her, Gemma remained helpless in her bondage for nearly an hour while her Owners drank and ate and joked among themselves; their callous disregard of her despair reinforcing her subjugation as she was ignored.

In her place, Clarissa, the red head, became the centre of attention and Gemma's brown eyes widened as the tall slavegirl was ordered to strip for the entertainment of the group. Slowly and sensually, clearly enjoying being the object of all eyes, Clarissa undulated from side to side while she unclasped the halter neck of her silk dress and lowered it inch by inch to the creamy upper slopes of her breasts, tantalising her audience with momentary glimpses of her body, then covering herself once more. Her eyes met those of her Masters boldly and then slid away in submission, but never leaving the gaze of Matthew for more than a few seconds.

His brief nod of approval to his slave gave permission for her to continue and she worked the tight silk down to her hips, revealing her pale, full breasts and large, dark nipples but never missing a beat of her erotic dance. For a brief instant, her eyes locked with Gemma's and the brunette recognised the defiant pride of a slavegirl who knew exactly what she was and accepted and revelled in her desirability to Masters. As Clarissa slid her dress over her hips and discarded the crumpled fabric to reveal the steel gripping her loins and marking her as Matthew's slavegirl, Gemma felt a bitter pang of jealousy that it was not she who wore such a device as a symbol of her absolute submission to one Master.

As the redhead arched her body into the lovely curve of a slavegirl's submission, her green eyes fixed on only one Master ... her Master, Matthew ... and Gemma realised that Clarissa was enslaved by her love for him and needed no chains or whips to make her his slave. She could be nothing else and obviously desired nothing else. Gemma envied her such devotion and could not help but wonder whether she might, one day, find such a Master. A Master to whom she, too, could be nothing but a slave.

Deep in her whirling brain, an image formed of herself kneeling in chains before a tall, muscular Master and she shut her eyes in horror when his face took on the familiar features of Mike, her ex-lover and partner ... the man who had sold her into slavery. Trembling with shock, she forced the image away, down into the depths of her reeling mind, refusing to even think of the simply appalling possibility. She loathed him! Despised him and hated him with a passion and would never, ever, let such a thing happen.

Shuddering, she opened her eyes, determined to forget her momentary, and it was only a momentary lapse into madness, she told herself fiercely. The sight before her took her breath away and brought her fears rushing back. Clarissa, now freed of her chastity belt, but with her wrists crossed and tightly bound before her and with a wide gag strap sealing her lips, was being taken out onto the garden patio by Matthew, Lydia and Nicos, while Axel, Roxwell, Steven and Alicia were walking towards Gemma.

Against four dominants, she never had a chance of resisting and gulped in fright as her ankles were untied, her wrists locked together before her belly and her neck released from the post.

Gemma winced when her body protested, but, true to their word, her Masters only allowed her a minute to recover before ordering her to walk out onto the patio, Axel and Steven gripping her elbows while she stumbled along on her pencil slim high heels. The night air was pleasantly cool on Gemma's naked flesh and as she joined Clarissa and her escort of Masters, she could not help but notice how the gently swaying fairy lights highlighted the redhead's breasts, belly and legs in moving patterns of red and blue and yellow. The whole effect made her look like some sort of painted savage, much like herself she realised, looking down at her own naked body.

Held by strong hands, neither slavegirl wasted energy by trying to resist when a rope was thrown over the cross piece of a solid metal trellis above their heads and looped through between their bound wrists. Pushed together, back to back, Gemma found to her surprise that her immense heels made her nearly as tall as Clarissa and as the tightening rope stretched each of them upwards, she found the sensation of warm, resilient flesh against her spine and buttocks to be undeniably erotic.

"Spread your legs, slaves!" the order came from Lydia and both captives obeyed, recognising the futility of attempting to refuse.

Rope encircled their ankles to hold them spread eagled and as straps tightened at their waists and below their breasts, Gemma felt Clarissa's shivers of excitement match her own as their bodies were firmly clamped together.

"Mmm, yes, very nice," Lydia and Alicia chuckled as they walked slowly, arm in arm around the two naked slavegirls, feasting their eyes on taut breasts and spread thighs. "So, gentlemen, who's going to be first to test out this arrangement? We call it double dating, for obvious reasons."

Gemma's eyes opened wide and she heard Clarissa's muffled gasp as they learned the reason for their back to back bondage. Sandwiched as they would be between two of their Masters, they wouldn't even be able to move as they were taken and Gemma felt renewed dampness moisten her groin as she imagined it.

"A delightful idea, ladies, but if I might make one small suggestion?" Matthew was behind Gemma, so she was unable to see what he was doing, but felt Clarissa stiffen as her adored Master spoke, "I have always found that Clarissa's responses intensify when she cannot be sure who it is that arouses or takes her and I just happen to have brought these with me. If you would care to use them, we can see whether Gemma is affected in the same way?"

"What an excellent idea, Matthew! Thank you. Yes, let's try them, by all means."

Gemma was plunged into stygian darkness when a leather bag descended over her head and she whimpered while being deprived of sight. A draw cord at her neck closed the bag and eliminated every chink of light. Instantly, as predicted by Matthew, her arousal zoomed higher and her nostrils filled with the pungent, exciting smell of leather after she was hooded. Unable to anticipate the Masters' next move, Gemma shivered wildly, the bells at her nipples jingling and betraying the thrilling surge of submissive heat raging through her belly. When she was taken, there would be no way for her to tell who was enjoying her body.

Clarissa's explosive gasp and the convulsive jerk of her body against Gemma's gave the brunette advance warning that the next stage of her ordeal was about to begin, but was nowhere near long enough to enable her to prepare herself for the gentle lips and long, wet tongue that nuzzled her clitoris and invaded the delicate cleft of her sex. Gemma's squeal of ecstasy lost itself in her hood as she jerked wildly to the unbearable arousal, neither knowing nor caring whether her lover was male or female, able only to respond more and more desperately to the exquisite pleasuring of her quaking belly.

Driven into a frenzy by the mouth between her thighs, Gemma greeted its removal and immediate replacement by a thick, rigid erection which drove irresistibly into the churning cauldron of her belly, with a shrill, wailing scream of ultimate surrender while she hurtled into a stupendous orgasm. Pulsing and shuddering in great racking spasms, her body writhed maniacally against the ropes which held her and scalding love juices deluged into her belly. Gemma screamed her submission to slavery over and over into her massive gag while her Master exercised his full, awesome power, pounding into her receptive heat until he reached his peak then his seed flooded into her contorting belly to trigger a second mighty climax of devastating proportions. To her horror, even as she writhed in her release, the mouth returned to her sex, lapping at her engorged labia, drinking deep of her juices and beginning the cycle of wild arousal for a second time.

Clarissa was in no better situation to judge by her breathy squeals and the rhythmic jolting of her buttocks against Gemma's, but there was nothing either slavegirl could do to help the other and Gemma arched helplessly when a second Master buried his maleness to the hilt in her roiling belly then cruel fingers seized her nipples and nipple rings, caressing her flesh and tweaking the steel circlets randomly to send furious arousal and flashes of delicious pain spearing through her throbbing breasts.

The combination was far, far too much for Gemma and her belly convulsed in climax after climax, one blending into the next while she was forced far beyond her limits into a limbo of sheer physical passion where nothing existed but a spinning vortex of lust and the sexual demands imposed on her by her merciless Masters.

Her second Master locked rigid, his seed jetting into her belly and Gemma exploded into another pulverising climax while he pulsed deep within her, her brain numbed into submission by the incredible power and number of her orgasms. Dangling from her bound wrists, shaken by continuing spasms and gasping for breath, Gemma whimpered piteously when he withdrew from her, horrified that the lips and tongue would return to foretell yet another devastating assault.

It did not happen and as Clarissa screamed in climax and her naked body flailed violently against her spine, Gemma dared to hope that the ordeal was over. Soft whispers and the shuffling of feet told her that the Masters had not left, but as seconds lengthened to minutes, the two trembling, sweat and sex-stained slavegirls began to recover and relax.

Without warning and with only split seconds between them, Devil's Palms impacted with stinging force on the stretched flesh of each slave's upper thighs, the cruel slap of leather followed instantly by an anguished screech of shock and pain from each girl. Fingers clawing vainly, each writhed and twisted in hopeless efforts to avoid the strokes, but the leather sought them out with unerring accuracy. Terrified, Gemma and Clarissa pleaded for mercy, but received none and their screams slowly changed to grunts of helpless anguish when the leather thongs flicked across their out thrust breasts and nipples. They slapped gently between their thighs, bringing unwanted but unavoidable arousal when the whips rekindled the fires smouldering in their bellies, then, as each slavegirl surrendered to the cruel torment, unknown Masters took them ruthlessly, penetrating to the heated core of their femininity. They were each taught their slavery with hard, fast lunges and the two slavegirls whimpered, b egging in their helpless need, defenceless against the men's strength and power while they demonstrated their absolute Mastery by forcing the slavegirls to submit unconditionally to their dominance.

Subjugated to the ultimate degree, Gemma and Clarissa again climaxed within seconds of each other, their bodies writhing madly against each other while love juices crashed into their bellies and they came and came in obedience to the demands of their Masters. It was a horrifying, but hugely erotic experience and as Gemma spasmed to the explosive power of her orgasm, she knew beyond doubt, that she would never, never forget the thrill of it. Her whole body burned with a vibrant excitement she had never known before and she understood then, as she stood bound and climaxing for her Masters, the attraction of bondage from the slave's point of view.

She couldn't believe the depths of ecstasy she had plumbed and the sheer, pagan intoxication of complete submission and gulped with nervous anxiety as a worrying doubt crept into her brain. If she was forced to endure such incredible sensations for a whole year, would she ever be able to go back to the humdrum routine of normal life? It was a shocking thought while her hood was removed and her bonds untied. Then surprisingly, the Masters kissed and congratulated her on her performance and fortitude before taking her back to her room and locking her in. Gemma's brain went around in circles and the question refused to be ignored. Always, she came back to the same central fact ... while she remained enslaved and in bondage, she had no choice.

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